Papa Miles and Presidents Homework
by lynnsenpai
Summary: From a prompt on Tumblr: 'my kids adores you and never stops talking about you, and one day when you were helping them with their homework, they accidentally called you mom/dad.' also posted on tumblr
"Uncle Edgeworth?"

Miles looked up from the paperwork spread across the coffee table, his chopsticks held in hand. "May I help you with something, Trucy?" He gave her a small smile, hoping it wasn't as forced as it felt.

Trucy twisted the hem of her father's old shirt in her hands; the threadbare blue Ivy U tee swallowed her small, childish frame. "Could I ask you something?" she inquired shyly.

"You just did," Miles said, looking back down at his carton of takeout. Could she tell he was gently teasing, despite the frown on his face? He'd always aimed for 'neutral' but apparently missed and hit 'permanently aggravated' instead. The last thing he wished to do was make her nervous, even though it was probably inevitable. "But go ahead and ask another."

Trucy watched her father's friend take a dumpling between his two chopsticks and raise it up to his wide, frowning mouth. He was apparently just now eating their takeout from earlier, several hours after she did; was he shy about liking such cheap food? "Um, could you… please help me with my homework?"

Miles stopped his chewing, blinking up at her for a moment. "Help you with your homework?" he echoed after swallowing.

"Mhm. It's really hard," Trucy explained, peeking out at him with round blue eyes. A brown section of hair fell loose from behind her ear and into her face. "And I tried doing it on my own, but it's just so confusing! I-I understand if you don't want to though.."

Miles glanced over at the reports in his lap. He had court tomorrow, and had only agreed to watch Trucy if he could prepare (and under the promise that 'She really is a good girl, Miles, I swear!') for his trial at 10 am.

"Of course I will," he answered. The way Trucy smiled made his heart tremble with the increasingly familiar feeling of parental affection. She made him feel as if he could take his bench tomorrow and win without even reviewing. He leaned forward and placed his nearly empty carton on the coffee table, and set his case file just beside it. "Bring your homework in here and I'll see what I can do."

Phoenix leaned back against the door, pausing to sigh tiredly. He kicked his shoes to the side and straightened, walking out from behind the wall to enter the main apartment.

A familiar black-gray head and broad pair of shoulders were visible over the back of the couch; beside him, however, was the top of his daughter's brunette head.

Trucy twisted to look up over the back of the couch. Her round face brightened, beaming at the sight of him. "Daddy, you're home!" she exclaimed joyously, clamoring up onto her knees and facing him by sitting backwards.

Phoenix smiled back at her. The poor doll was always ecstatic to see him come home from work; it made his stomach clench with hatred at the person who inflicted this kind of trauma on her.

"Of course I am, baby-cakes," he replied lightly, trying to put a reassuring subtext to his answer. "I'll always come back, one way or another."

He slipped his hand beneath his hat and scratched at his scalp. "But as much as I love seeing your beautiful face when I come home, what are you doing in here? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

Miles turned around to look at him. "She required assistance with her homework assignment," he said for her, bringing an arm up to rest on the back of the couch. "It was rather fortunate that I happen to be well-versed in American presidents."

"History is lame," Trucy remarked, sticking her tongue out at the subject. "Having to memorise all of the presidents are lame. Why do I care? I won't need to know about any of the old guys when I become a full-fledged magician!"

"You don't know that for certain," Miles said, turning back to face the coffee table. Phoenix smiled at their exchange and moved toward them. He was surprised to see a fifth grade history textbook in his lap instead of case files.

Trucy too turned to face forward again, pulling her notebook back across her crossed legs. "Do you need to know about the presidents as a prosecutor?" she asked.

Miles paused. "Well, no…" he said slowly. "But I might. You never know when you might require information on certain topics. As a prosecutor, it's always handy to have outside knowledge on a broad variety of topics."

Trucy nodded slowly, and Phoenix could practically see the gears in her head turning. "I see," she said as the thought processed. "So, what you're saying is that I should learn about the presidents because it's good to have extra knowledge?"

"Precisely."

Phoenix smiled, walking around the couch to sit on Trucy's other side. His sudden weight made the cushions dip, nearly unseating her.

"I'm glad Edgeworth could help you, honey," he said, drawing one leg to cross over his knee as he leaned back. He draped his arms across the back of the couch and reclined. "I found learning the presidents to be unnecessary and annoying, but if you need to do it to pass your class, then you should."

Trucy nodded again. "I know, I know. I just forget so many of them…"

"I'm afraid I don't know any kind of mnemonic device to help you memorize them," Miles said, reaching up to pull his reading glasses off of his face. He smiled at Trucy apologetically, but she shook her head and cast her binder into Phoenix's lap in order to clamber onto her knees again and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Don't apologize! You were already so helpful!" she said with a bubbly laugh. "I got my homework done, so that's all that matters!"

Miles looked startled that she was hugging him so enthusiastically. He patted her arm wound around his shoulder, and looked aside, his ears turning pink. "I was more than happy to help," he murmured, embarrassed.

Phoenix smiled, the scene warming his heart despite Miles' apparent awkwardness. "You should probably be getting to bed now, Truce," he said, glancing at his watch. He covered a yawn with his hand as he noted the time. "It's almost midnight, and you're gonna fall asleep in class tomorrow if you stay up any later."

Trucy groaned, her head lolling between her shoulders. "But I'm not even tiiired," she whined. A yawn of her own threatened to capture her, and her jaw clenched as she struggled to stifle it.

Phoenix grinned. "Your yawn says otherwise."

Trucy allowed herself to yawn properly and blinked her watering eyes, then leaned back toward Miles. She puckered her lips and pressed them against his cheek with a quiet smack sound. "Thanks again, papa," she said drowsily.

Miles sputtered, and Trucy turned to close her books and gather them in her arms. She jerked abruptly, nearly dropping them as she processed the reason why he was suddenly flustered and unable to speak.

"I-I'm sorry, Uncle Miles," she said, shoulders hunched and meekness on her face. "I didn't mean to call you that, it just slipped out because I'm tired! And…" She ducked her head, cheeks colored pink, and carefully stepped over her father's outstretched legs. "G-good night!"

Phoenix laughed softly at her endearing shyness, grinning as Miles gingerly touched his cheek with a soft smile. "The girl's got guts," he commented once he heard her door shut. "Not just anyone can smooch Miles Edgeworth without beating him in court no less than four times."

Miles snapped out of his daze and threw an bemused look back at him, and Phoenix puckered his mouth and made mocking kissy sounds. "Shut up, Wright. And get your filthy feet off of my autopsy report."

Phoenix grunted and lifted his feet off of the coffee table, and let Miles gather his case files. "Hm, first Uncle, then Papa? Try not to let it get to your head to know that both Wrights love you to pieces." He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind the other's ear, smiling fondly.

Miles rolled his eyes. "I'll try not to," he muttered, but a small smile came to his lips regardless.


End file.
